


Lilramaea's Journal

by angry_eevee



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Daedra, Daedric Princes, Descent into Madness, Diary/Journal, Non-Dragonborn Character - Freeform, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:12:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angry_eevee/pseuds/angry_eevee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The journal of a Daedric scholar, and her gradual descent into madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lilramaea's Journal

**Author's Note:**

> Canon will be broken within this fic. The major point being that Lilramaea is not the Dragon Born, and that the story takes place before Alduin’s attack on Helgen. The early chapters will follow the College of Winterhold plot to a point, but as the Eye of Magnus storyline is not the one I wish to follow here it will quickly leave that plotline in favour of Lilramaea’s own.   
> The later chapters will contain disturbing themes, and will be tagged accordingly.

**Entry 1.**

First day at the College! I know I’m far too excited, but I’ve spent so long saving my wages from the New Gnisis to travel all the way from Windhelm. Admittedly, “all the way from Windhelm” was a few hours on the cart, but I’ve never even been outside the city before. It seems colder here, without the city walls and the people squashed so close together in the Grey Quarter. Quieter too. I do miss my lively home, but not Uncle Savnniu’s snoring. I was shown to the Hall of Attainment (Hall of Attainment!) and I’ve got my own room here! I wonder what it’s going to be like sleeping in a bed without my two cousins fighting me for blankets. Even though I’m homesick, I’m a little relived to get away from the city – anti-Dunmer feeling has been on the rise since the civil war began, and it’s been getting a bit dangerous.

 I decided to start this journal to keep track of where I am as a person, instead of just my notebooks to show my progress as a mage. A mage! Lilramaea the Mage. And soon to be Lilramaea Vilaevanni – Foremost Researcher of Daedric Lore in Skyrim.

I’m so excited! 

I have to leave this entry here – I’ve already unpacked, but I’m supposed to go to the Hall of Elements (how mystical does that sound??) to meet my fellow students and be introduced to the curriculum. I hope they like me.

**Entry. 2**

_*This entry is written in a rather shaky hand, with numerous ink blots and scribblings out.*_

I’m writing this on a cart, so excuse my handwriting. We’re on our way to a ruin called Saarthal. Onmund really doesn’t seem happy about it. I hope it’s not too upsetting for him, but I’ve always been confused by the Nord practice of sealing their dead away and never talking to them, they must get so cold all alone. Oh, sorry – Onmund is one of my fellow students, along with Brelyna who’s a Dunmer like me, and J’zargo, a Khajiit. I met all the lecturers earlier but I’m a bit ashamed to admit I didn’t note down all their names, only Phinis Gestor who teaches Conjuration, so I’ll probably be taking tutorials with him a lot. (I was a little disappointed to find out he specialises in Necromancy rather than Oblivion Binding, and I just KNOW my uncle would drag me back home right away if he knew I was being tutored by someone who treats remains so disrespectfully, but I’m a mage now and I need to keep an open mind.) Oh, and the lecturer taking us to Saarthal is called Tolfdir, who seems a little bit… bumbling, but I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. I really should be listening to his lecture about the history of the place, but it’s a bit boring. I don’t really care much about Nord history, and we’re encouraged to specialise aren’t we? I just hope he thinks I’m taking notes instead of writing this entry.

I can see the site! I’ll have to stop for now. I really hope this crumbling old place full of the forgotten dead actually has something inside that’s interesting, rather than just sad.

**Entry 3.**

** I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT ALL BACK!!!!  ** Saarthal was NOT a total waste of time!! Oh, ancestors you will never believe what happened! What I FOUND!

Right, Lilramaea, pace yourself, record the whole event. One day scholars will look back on this journal (maybe) and they’ll need to know the whole story.

To start with, I got trapped behind some old magical puzzle that led us into chambers undiscovered by the original excavation team. After getting myself unstuck, Tolfdir called the others and we went deeper into the ruins. Tolfdir was very excited, and said we might all even get credit when he came to write about this site, which is slightly unfair because if I had actually looked where I was going and hadn’t knocked that stupid amulet off the wall to trigger the puzzle, we would never have found the place. Even though it was magical, I gave the amulet to Onmund. It’s old Nord, and the expedition had really been getting to him so I thought he deserved it. Besides, it has NOTHING on the treasure I found! No, I’m getting ahead of myself. Be methodical.

 So, we came to a big room with an altar. Tolfdir was fussing around when Onmund suddenly went all still. We tried shouting at him but he didn’t respond for a good five minutes, and we were getting really worried. The he suddenly un-froze and started gabbling about seeing a man no one else saw from something called the Psijjic Order. I was really worried that amulet I had given him was cursed and he’d started hallucinating. We didn’t have much time to worry, however, because suddenly the crypts on each side of the room burst open and we were attacked! By the undead! I KNEW Nord burials would leave the dead unhappy! I’d be ready to fight if MY ancestors left me in a box for thousands of years and never came to talk to me! Well, I’ll admit I was scared out of my mind, these things, the Draugr, they’re nothing like the Ancestor Spirits, let me tell you. They made the most horrible, rattling gasping noises as they lurched towards us, and their eyes had almost… calcified? I’m sure eyeballs rot after a few years so I assume these bodies had been preserved somehow. I can make analytical comments now, but at the time all I could do was summon my Familiar and bless Tolfdir for teaching me a Shield Ward earlier that day. The others were a bit more impressive, I have to say. I didn’t think much of J’zargo’s boasting about his prowess with Destruction spells but ~~the cat really pulled it out the bag!~~ That was culturally insensitive. He was very good and shot a Draugr coming up behind me with an Ice Spike. Anyway, I might have screamed a bit. Possibly a lot.

The rest of the crypt was filled with more Draugr and lots of traps, and being less than graceful I must have stepped on a pressure plate that sent a large log swooping down from the celling to send me flying across the room and cracking my ribs. Even with the healing spell Onmund cast on me, there’s still an ugly bruise. I wasn’t totally useless, though! When a body we thought was dead suddenly came alive (re-animated?) and grabbed Brelyna’s ankle, I conjured a Bound Sword and chopped its arm off! I was pretty proud of myself.  We did, then, have to stop for a few minutes to prise the fingers open so she didn’t have to wear a dead arm as an anklet forever.

We eventually came to a room with a picture puzzle, which was easy to solve for someone who’s used to matching people’s drunk signatures to tabs in a tavern, and we entered onto the balcony of a huge hall.

(Ancestors, we’re nearly at the good bit!)

In the middle of the room was a huge rotating orb. It was impressive; you could feel the magika emanating from it. Slightly more urgent was the large and heavily armoured Draugr standing in front of it. We threw everything we had at it to no effect, when Tolfdir shouts to run back up to the balcony and “keep it busy!”

KEEP IT BUSY??

Despite the terrifying idiocy of that order, we actually worked well as a team! Whatever Tolfdir was doing clearly worked, because Brelyna used Oakflesh to stop some of the thing’s attacks, I summoned my Familiar to slow it down on the stairs and the boys used Flames to burn it to ashes.   

After that thrilling (meaning – terrifying) encounter, Tolfdir sent Onmund back to the college to tell the Archmage what happened while he examined the orb. The rest of us were set looking around for information in the room (here it comes, here comes the good part). I don’t know what the others found, but, oh my, do I know what I found!

It was in a chest, near the back of the room, by a wall covered in writing that made my eyes ache and head pound, so I didn’t look at it too closely. There, with assorted jewels and a few enchanted trinkets, was a beautiful, pearlescent white sphere, with many smooth facets. I knew it was special just by looking at it, and the moment I touched it, I knew.

She spoke to me.

Meridia spoke to me.

I knew immediately it was Her. I heard the voice and I somehow knew in my bones.

I’ll write down what She said, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget these words as long as I live.   

  _"A new hand touches the Beacon. Listen. Hear me and obey. A foul darkness has seeped into my temple. A darkness that you will destroy. Return my Beacon to Mount Kilkreath and I will make you the instrument of my cleansing light."_

A Daedric Prince has chosen me for a quest.

A Daedric Prince has chosen me for a quest.

A DAEDRIC PRINCE HAS CHOSEN ME FOR A QUEST!!!

This has been the best day of my life.

Tomorrow, I’ll figure out exactly how to get to Mount Kilkreath, and see if I can claim this as independent study time.

MERIDIA SPOKE TO ME!

This is the beginning of something wonderful, I just know it.

I just know it.


End file.
